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Post by blaise mackinley stanton on Dec 23, 2013 12:59:27 GMT -5
![](http://i57.tinypic.com/200sgzs.jpg) Blaise was still finding his way around New York City, but he was getting better at telling the Starbucks apart, which seemed to be the simplest way of figuring out where he had ended up whenever he did end up getting lost on the city streets. Blaise liked to walk and he was used to life in the city, but he sometimes forgot that this wasn’t Philadelphia; he couldn’t just look up and instantly know his way back home. It was why he had had his fair share of New York hospitality whenever he asked for directions back to the street where he knew his apartment building was. At least he was getting better at identifying the streets, so, hopefully, by the time that school started up in the fall, he wouldn’t be wandering around like some lost puppy.
He was still getting comfortable with his new surroundings, but after the rather…unique way in which Rhiannon entered his life at Borders, he was one step closer to finding himself a friend in the city. It took some convincing in front of the mirror and several moments to himself away from the crowds, but Blaise was getting used to spending time in the brunette’s company. Her rambling still caught him off guard sometimes and he probably blinked and sucked in air enough times to win an award for gold fish imitations, but he was getting there and he liked it when he could relax around Rhi and enjoy himself. It had been too long since he had had that in his life and it was nice to finally have it back. Hell, he was just glad she didn’t run off or think him weird whenever he did freeze up or stutter or have a moment of extreme shyness. He was definitely coming out of his shell around her, but it had always been a slow process and even when he was completely comfortable he was far from the life and soul of any party.
That morning had boasted a clear sky and the promise of a nice summery afternoon in the city. It was a good thing, too, since he had somehow agreed to a day in the park with Rhiannon. There was supposed to be a reason behind it, but he was afraid to say he had spaced out at the time, overwhelmed, and just about managed to nod his head when she had asked. He checked on Walter and then strolled through his morning routine, finishing it off with a bowl of cereal rather than the bagel he usually snatched up on his way to work. He popped his meds to be on the safe side and then made his way out to meet Rhi, texting her to make sure he found his way to the right entrance of Central Park. After spending some time there, Blaise just going along with whatever his much more hyperactive partner suggested, they grabbed lunch and headed back towards the city streets. Blaise had to grab a few things while they were out and, well, why not just extend their time together a little more? He had nowhere else to be and if Rhi did then she wasn’t showing it. They were heading towards one of the smaller stores where Blaise often got Walter’s things from when the sky seemed to have suddenly darkened and by the time they emerged from the building, they were hardly at the corner of the block when the rain began. It wasn’t just light, nuisance drops, but a torrential downpour that made it difficult to see and soaked right through Blaise’s clothes in seconds. Everyone was already scattering for shelter in coffee shops and anywhere else that was available, but Blaise knew that throwing himself into a crowd like that would definitely only trigger his anxiety and he’d had a good day so far. “Urgh! Come on! My apartment is just a block over from here!” He called to Rhi, picking up the pace as he led her down the street and through the panicked pedestrians.
His apartment was tiny and nothing much to boast about, but it was warm and dry. He turned the key in the lock and shook the droplets of water from his hair before gesturing for Rhi to step inside. The rain had definitely done a number on them both and he dropped the bag of Walter’s things to the floor before glancing down and grimacing at the state of his own sodden appearance. Shrugging off his heavy hoodie, he smiled shyly at Rhiannon, hoping his apartment wasn’t too messy or cramped for her. “I’ll grab us some towels. Make yourself at home.” He disappeared into his bedroom where the bathroom led off from and fetched two big and clean towels from the cupboard. He was about to head back into the living room when he realised that the towels probably wouldn’t be enough. He could slip back into his room to change, but he grabbed a t-shirt and some of the holiday shorts, that often went forgotten for most of the year, from his dresser before stepping back out to see how his company was doing. “Here, I figured waiting out the rain might be better if y-you were dry.” He held out the clothes and the towel to her and then raised his own towel to dry his hair before any more droplets ran down the back of his neck. Glancing at the window it looked like the weather wouldn’t be improving for a bit, but at least it was only raining and not a complete thunderstorm for now. Blaise figured that had to be something, right?
• • • TAGGED! Rhi! WORDS! 983 OUTFIT! Casual Mess LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects NOTES! <3
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Post by Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb on Dec 23, 2013 13:55:22 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/lily141_zpsb2d0dce1.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/5a1d52-TheBalconyScene_zps7f739be9.png) Rhiannon had grown up in New York and still couldn’t find her way around the city to tell someone where she was. Whenever her brother needed to know where she was, or her uncle to meet up with her, unless it was a well-known place, she had to engage the GPS system in her phone so they could track her down. Directions were just not her thing at all; which was probably why she spent so much of her time in her apartment, drawing. She wouldn’t go out at all if it weren’t for her friends. Today though, it was such a nice day when she’d looked that she just couldn’t stay in her apartment all day, doing nothing at all. She had a short break from work since they weren’t sure if they were going to be renewing her contact or not. Honestly, she hoped they wouldn’t. As much as she loved her job, she wanted to branch out and go somewhere else; somewhere she was a part of the company and not a subsidiary one.
She had scrolled through her contact list until she’d come across Blaise’s name and decided he could do for a day out as well. He was still so new to the city and though she couldn’t tell him where she was to save her life, she could still show him around. She suggested they meet at the park and when he agreed, she’d gone off to get ready for a day at the park in the lovely weather. And all through the day it didn’t appear like it would change at all, which Rhiannon loved, even if she did wish she’d worn shorts or something else or at least a different pair of shoes. Lesson learned was all she could think, shrugging it off. Since she didn’t have any pressing matters that needed to be taken care of, Rhiannon tagged along for Blaise’s errands, keeping him company and her out of what little trouble she could get into alone. Usually, the brunette only managed to get herself into trouble with Allela but anything could happen.
Rhiannon hadn’t noticed the skies darkening, which was very unlike her. Anything to indicate a thunderstorm, she noticed. But she was enjoying herself, laughing and picking at things in the stores like she always did. Her awareness hit about the same time as the raindrops. Her heart raced but she tried to stay calm, only internally freaking out and praying with everything she had that it the sky wouldn’t light up or start booming. For as long as she could remember, she was terrified of thunderstorms and no one seemed to have a plausible explanation for her fear. Rhiannon nodded her head, worried her voice would squeak if she actually spoke. Thankfully, she’d been wearing heels since she was twelve and could run easily in the chunky boots on her feet. Keeping up with Blaise was easy for her. She felt better once they were in his apartment but she couldn’t help but keep wishing the weather would just get better. If there were ever a day to miraculously get over a silly fear such as hers, today would be that day; but Rhi wasn’t that lucky.
Rhiannon set her things down on the floor and sat down on the floor as Blaise ran off to take off the chunky boots adorning her feet. Her colourful socks were just as soaked through as the rest of her clothing and she peeled those off revealing the bright blue pedicure she’d gotten only a couple days before. Doing something kept her mind off the rain slamming into the windows of the small apartment. She wiggled her toes a couple times before standing back up and pushing her shoes out of harm’s way. All she needed now was for Blaise or herself to trip over them while trying to do something else. She had barely taken a handful of steps into the apartment, pulling her shirt which had become a second skin away from her body as she went when Blaise reappeared again. “Oh, thanks,” she said, accepting the clothes and towel. “Umm, the washroom, down there?” she asked, pointing in the direction Blaise had come from. She wanted desperately to get out of the wet and dripping clothes.
Tag || Blaise!<3 Words | 718 Clothes || Hot Mess Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil Notes || <3
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Post by blaise mackinley stanton on Dec 24, 2013 12:17:25 GMT -5
![](http://i57.tinypic.com/200sgzs.jpg) Blaise knew all about fears, anxiety and how irrational some of them could be. He had a bottle of pills for his own in the top drawer in his bedroom. Like so many other people he had hoped to grow out of them by now, but pretty much all of them still remained. The only thing he had been able to successfully get over from his past had been the mutism he had fallen into when he was a teenager and at his lowest point in terms of his anxieties. No one expected a cop’s son to be the scared little boy in the corner of the school yard but that had been Blaise’s reality. Even now it was the little things that made him feel proud and as though he had accomplished something great. His two tattoos were quite small and barely visible given their positions and Blaise’s style, but he had been ridiculously giddy for him when he had gone through those days and gotten the permanent pieces of ink on his skin. For him, just being around the strangers there, talking about his design and answering the routine questions had been reason enough for him to make the “you’ll never guess what…” phone call.
Still, his own irrational fear came in the form of china dolls. It was completely unconnected to the rest of his phobias and there was no link that Blaise or his mom could remember, but put Blaise in a room with a china doll and it was guaranteed stuttering, fidgeting and panicking until eventually he’d either have to leave or have a complete anxiety attack if he was trying to be polite and not scream that the doll was giving him the nightmares he couldn’t explain. Still, after everything his own life had thrown at him and the doors that therapy has opened for him, Blaise was the last person who would judge or laugh at someone who wasn’t comfortable in a certain situation or around a certain thing. He had been there too many times before and while he was used to dealing with it, it wasn’t something that he’d wish on anyone else. Fear could be a debilitating thing; especially the ones that couldn’t be explained away with the help of an overly paid doctor.
“Um, yeah, right through the door there. Excuse my bedroom, I, uh, need to clean.” He leaned around the door he had stepped from to point to the door on the other side of his bed. It was convenient having the bathroom attached to the bedroom when it was just him, but he hadn’t thought ahead for guests. Then again, he hadn’t planned on Rhiannon ending up in his apartment today. If he had then everything would have been spotless and tidy. She probably thought him some sloppy kid now. Once she was in the bathroom, Blaise quickly peeled out of his own sopping clothes and changed into a different t-shirt and a loose pair of sweats that were just comfier than his jeans when it came to lounging about his apartment. He took the damp clothes back through to his tiny kitchen and dropped them in the empty sink out of the way for now. They’d probably have time to use the building’s laundry facilities if Rhiannon wanted to. He flicked the switch on his kettle, suddenly aware that he didn’t have anything fancy in his kitchen cupboards; just normal coffee and two kinds of tea. He was far too used to no one coming to visit him. He scrubbed the towel over his hair again, sending the raven locks sticking in various directions as he stepped into the living area to wait for Rhiannon to appear. “I, um, I only have plain coffee, green tea or normal tea. Sorry.” He told her, leaning in the open archway between the two rooms. His dark eyes widened and flicked to the windows as the rain suddenly got heavier hitting harder against the panes of glass. “I hope we don’t lose power.” He literally was just waiting for the roll of thunder or the flash of lightning; whichever came first.
• • • TAGGED! Rhi! WORDS! 983 OUTFIT! Casual Mess LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects NOTES! <3
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Post by Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb on Dec 25, 2013 17:42:58 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/lily141_zpsb2d0dce1.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/5a1d52-TheBalconyScene_zps7f739be9.png) Rhiannon actually hated how she reacted whenever the thunder struck and lightning burned up the sky and she was left paralysed with fear. It didn’t help her imagination ran wild and by the time the storm let up, she had a million different ways she could die or be injured rushing through her head. Nearly every single one of them was ridiculous and so out there they could only happen in her comics, but she was still scared beyond belief. And everything else that was usually scary just weren’t. Aside from the ridiculously irrational need to have water running whenever she was in the washroom, her fears were legitimate, or close enough to it. Even when she’d gone off with her uncle and gotten her first tattoo at sixteen, she hadn’t been the least bit scared and had ended up laughing throughout the entire process with the artist and her uncle. And then every time after that was the same thing, she went in with her brother or uncle, sat and laughed through it all, even when it should have hurt like nothing else.
“Don’t worry about it. You haven’t seen my place,” she said with a nervous laugh that she hoped passed for the thought of her own apartment being a mess. She and her brother kept up the housework well, but her studio was a disaster zone. She liked to call it ‘artistic chaos’ since she knew exactly where everything was and if even her inking pen went from one spot over an inch or two, she knew about it. She skirted the bed and shut the door behind her turning to look at the small bathroom space. She set Blaise’s dry clothes on the counter before peeling off the wet clothes she had on and tossing them into the bathtub so she wouldn’t start a flood with the rain she’d collected. She pulled Blaise’s t-shirt over her head and took one look in the mirror and started laughing. For a moment, she forgot there was a big storm brewing just outside the walls of the apartment as she stared at the tiny girl in the mirror wearing a shirt that could pass as a dress for her. Shaking her head, Rhi pulled on the shorts and had to fold them over a half dozen times before they would sit decently on her waist without falling after three steps.
Picking up the towel again, Rhi left the safety of the windowless bathroom scrubbing her hair and wishing she had just cut it all off when she’d gotten the red taken out. It wasn’t the first time she’d made that wish but every time she made an appointment with her stylist, she had her mind changed by the time she walked through the doors of the salon. She found Blaise in the living room, leaning in the doorway. She pulled the towel down to the tips of her hair and scrubbed them in her hands, purposefully ignoring the windows just on the other side of her. “Green tea is perfect, actually,” she said, smiling up at him. If Blaise knew her well, he would have been able to see the slight tremble Rhiannon was trying hard to hide, like her entire body vibrated with fear. Rhiannon thought she was hiding it well at least, she didn’t know how much Blaise saw through. “D-,” she started, pausing to cough to cover the stutter that was starting. “Do you lose power often?” she asked, wringing the towel in her hands. She was reaching up to run the towel over her hair again when the first round of thunder boomed overhead. Rhiannon squealed and dropped to the floor with her hands over her head. She’d stopped in the room with the armchair between her and the windows so she hid perfectly behind it. She completely forgot she wasn’t home or alone with the sound of the thunder and right in that moment, she couldn’t care less that she wasn’t alone or in the comfort of her own home.
Tag || Blaise!<3 Words | 676 Clothes || Hot Mess Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil Notes || <3
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Post by blaise mackinley stanton on Dec 25, 2013 19:31:54 GMT -5
![](http://i57.tinypic.com/200sgzs.jpg) Most of the clutter in Blaise’s apartment came in the form of books. He already had floor to ceiling shelves covering one wall, but he still had a habit of leaving a few books scattered on tables and by his bed and one in the kitchen for when he was waiting on the microwave to finish heating whatever he was calling dinner that night. Obviously his bedroom had a few items of clothing scattered around and hoodies hung wherever they could find space, but his apartment was far from being inhabitable. Blaise gave Rhiannon a small smile before she slipped away to dry off and change. He took the next few moments to check that he knew where the flashlight was in case they needed it and to chase up the forecast on his phone. The storm had seemingly come from nowhere, so he wanted to see if there was any indication of how long it was here for.
Blaise might not have been worrying about the storm outside, but he was freaking out and doing his best to keep it under control. People never got close to him purely because that was the hand fate had dealt him. No one besides his family had been inside his apartment and he didn’t exactly make nice with his neighbours to have the coffee mornings and the bar trips that he saw on those sitcoms each night. Despite all of that, Rhiannon was in his bathroom, getting changed into his clothes and probably going to see the storm out from the comfort of his New York home. It was a little much for him to take in, but he kept his hands busy by just neatening up things, putting dishes back into cupboards and brushing the crumbs from the counter-tops into the small plastic bin. He smiled at Rhi once more before moving to make the tea for them both, grabbing two bright blue mugs from his cupboard. He only missed the tremble in her voice because his observational skills were lacking, somewhat. He had spent so much of his life in his own little bubble, often avoiding the rest of the people around him, that he only ever picked up immediately on the definite tell-tale signs like tears or yelling. He had gotten better, but only when he was truly paying attention and right then had not been one of those times. “I don’t know. This is the first storm that’s hit since I moved here.” Back home had been another matter and they would quickly lose power once the weather took a turn for the worst. It was why Blaise always made sure he had something to keep him entertained and kept a flashlight handy in his bedside cabinet.
The tall literature lover almost dropped the tea at the sound of Rhiannon’s squeal, rather than at the deep rumble of thunder that echoed around the city. Poking his head out of the divide, his dark eyes widened when he saw her curled up on the floor. It was a position he was used to being in himself when he was younger and much less in control of his own anxiety. He just hadn’t pegged the tiny brunette for someone who was afraid of a thunderstorm and she hadn’t mentioned it to him. Blaise wasn’t equipped to handle this sort of situation, even if he had witnessed people helping him over the years. Most of the time those moments of anxiety were part of a blur that he could barely recall five minutes after he had calmed down. He swallowed hard and stared at her scared form for a moment until the flash of lightning struck outside the window and snapped him out of the early stages of his own mini panic. Crossing the room in a few quick strides, Blaise tugged on the thin rope of the blinds to block the view from their sight, plunging the room into a semi-state of darkness. He had no idea what he was doing, but he wanted to help Rhiannon relax. “Hey, hey, y-you’re okay?” He tried as he crouched down in front of her and then hesitantly reached out to rest his hand on her shoulder.
• • • TAGGED! Rhi! WORDS! 983 OUTFIT! Casual Mess LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects NOTES! <3
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Post by Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb on Dec 25, 2013 20:27:16 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/lily141_zpsb2d0dce1.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/5a1d52-TheBalconyScene_zps7f739be9.png) Rhiannon’s apartment was big and spacious, especially considering she lived in Manhattan, but money bought room and with her brother living there as well, they needed the space. It wasn’t too big though, just right for the pair to live together peacefully and without being under each other’s feet every time one of them moved. And for the most part it was kept clean because Rhiannon hated housework with a passion and it was like Reese was never home. The only room in the entire apartment that looked like a tornado went through it was the brunette’s studio. There were a few times she’d found “HAZMAT” signs on the door of the cosy room because it looked like you would need a full body suit and oxygen tank to survive. But it was only paper and pens, a few markers tossed around and crumbled up pieces of paper thrown at the trash bin in the corner and missing because Rhiannon hadn’t been looking.
As soon as the rain started falling, Rhi started wishing with everything she had that it would be just a simple, light shower. And because she didn’t have an in with any particular deity, her wishes went unanswered. But she was fine, at least that was what she kept telling herself as the rain fell from the sky harder, soaking her through and then again while she was changing out of those wet clothes. It wasn’t until she was back out in the living room that she really started to have a panic attack. She didn’t tell people about this little issue of hers because well, she felt ridiculous. Eve she knew her fear was stupid but she just couldn’t find herself getting over it. It wasn’t the rain, she loved light rain showers, running around and acting foolish. It was the thunder and lightning that got to her. Neither of which were altogether frightening and yet she found herself cowering away from windows and rocking herself back and forth in an attempt to forget the thrashing storm just outside. “Oh, oh good,” she said, chuckling nervously. “I guess we’ll find out then.”
Anything else in the world could have happened and Rhiannon would have kept a cool head about her. But one little thunderstorm and all hell breaks loose inside her. She felt bad, she really did, pushing all of this on Blaise. She should have made an excuse for herself and ran all the way back to her own apartment so she could hide alone. Her neighbour, the one that liked to refer to Rhiannon as her adopted granddaughter would have stopped by for tea, told her the same stories of New York when she’d been eighteen. It took her mind off it for a while but never long enough and then it was loud movies or music and food. Sketching and working could never pull her in with a storm raging but if she were already working, she wouldn’t hear it. Rhiannon couldn’t help but choke out a laugh. “N-no, I’m n-not,” she managed to get out. She felt foolish and embarrassed she’d been caught like this.
Tag || Blaise!<3 Words | 523 Clothes || Hot Mess Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil Notes || <3
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Post by blaise mackinley stanton on Dec 25, 2013 21:16:32 GMT -5
![](http://i57.tinypic.com/200sgzs.jpg) ![](http://i63.photobucket.com/albums/h144/Terrorprincess/Admin/Lyrics/tongue-tied---faber-drive_zps65fb8c77.png) Blaise had never even contemplated the idea of sharing a place with anyone else. He had been an only child and was much too comfortable with his own solitude to even begin imagining sharing it with someone else. Even his teenage bedroom had been a room where his mom only crept to return his laundry once he had brought the basket downstairs each weekend. Now, in New York, his apartment was a modest one bedroom place with just enough room for him to live without tripping over any of the furniture. He had a sofa-bed for whenever his mom, aunt or soon-to-be stepfather came to visit. They hadn’t been since they had helped him finish the move, but he knew one of them would show up sooner or later to make sure that everything was okay. They were insanely close, especially after the death of Blaise’s dad and the anxiety problems the young boy had had growing up. Even now he didn’t warm to people so easily, so when he did, he liked to cling onto them to make sure they wouldn’t vanish overnight.
When Blaise was younger, he had found the rain soothing. Actually, even now if a day had been hellish, he had been calmed by the sound of the rain on the windows and the blurred view of the city that his apartment could boast. It wasn’t much, just a long street and a glimpse of some of the more prominent buildings and skyscrapers if he angled himself just right in the chair by the window; his reading chair. Shave a few years off and he would have been out in the harsh weather, sitting under a stoop porch or just walking until the droplets soaked through to his skin and left him a shivering wreck. He could still hear the scolding tones of his mom by the time he returned home, drenched and sniffling, but it had been when he could brave the streets a little calmer; no one had time to stop and chat during a rainstorm. The tall book lover had moved on since, and wasn’t quite as hopelessly shy as he had been back then. Still, he felt his heart rate calming slightly at the sound of the rain on the roof and the windows; the one constant between the low rumbles of the thunder and harsh flashes of lightning.
He blinked, looking at Rhiannon’s position on the floor and taking a moment to get his own breathing under control. Throughout his life he had always been the one curled on the floor like that with someone else trying to reassure him. It felt strange now he was watching someone else go through the freak outs he was so familiar with. Wracking his brain, he tried to remember how people consoled him until he was relaxed again, but each thought only filled him with the kind of dread he had been trying so hard to avoid. He looked at Rhi again and swallowed hard. He couldn’t just sit there and do nothing, even if he did feel completely uncomfortable and awkward with this situation. Reaching out, he pulled Rhiannon back against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her, not only to hopefully help her, but also to hide the fact that his own hands were shaking. Blaise didn’t exactly have the greatest social skills, but he kept telling himself that he could do this. “It’ll, um, it’ll be o-okay.” He managed in a soft whispered, wishing he could sound a little more confident and less awkward.
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TAGGED! Rhi! WORDS! 628! OUTFIT! Casual Mess LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects NOTES! <3
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Post by Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb on Dec 26, 2013 11:46:32 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/lily141_zpsb2d0dce1.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/5a1d52-TheBalconyScene_zps7f739be9.png) Rhiannon didn’t have a choice when she’d moved out of her childhood brownstone. She wasn’t continuing her education; at least not right away so she didn’t have the option of a roommate in a dorm. And Reese had needed a place just as badly as she had so they’d worked out a plan. She could never live alone; especially with how drastically she got absorbed into her work, often losing hours and a couple days at one point because of ideas and deadlines. With her brother taking up half the space, she didn’t have the choice to sit at her desk for days or hours, he forced her out for an hour at least a day to go down the street for coffee or pick up some groceries when they were getting low. He forced her into the real world to socialise and play nice with strangers.
It wasn’t like she hated people she loved them, and thrived around them. She got her best ideas from running around the city with her brother, her uncle and the few friends that didn’t mind her unusual ways. There wasn’t much the petite brunette artist didn’t like actually. She wasn’t a fan of certain things, but then not everybody could adore everything. And no one in her family or group of friends knew why Rhiannon was so frightful of thunderstorms. Even she could understand the dislike of them if there was a good reason but there wasn’t a plausible explanation for Rhiannon’s fear. She just hated them, the sound of them with a passion. And it was funny in a not amusing way because she adored light spring showers when she looked out her studio window and saw the rivers of umbrellas where sidewalks used to be. She liked how the outside world became blurry, like she was in her own little world looking out into another. She hated that as soon as the lightning struck or the thunder boomed she was a puddle on the floor.
Forgetting where she was and who she was with momentarily, Rhiannon curled into Blaise’s chest when he pulled her back against him. When storms got bad and she was alone for a good portion of them, and too terrified to run away from her hiding spot, Reese or any member of her family just held her close and told her everything would be okay until the storm passed or someone managed to turn the music up loud enough to drown it out. It took Blaise talking to her again to remember she wasn’t home and this wasn’t a family member trying to calm her down. She was so embarrassed and she felt absolutely terrible that Blaise had to see her like this. “I’m so s-sorry,” she mumbled. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, but after all of this she would completely understand if the sweet boy currently taking care of her never wanted to see her again. “C-could you s-sing or t-turn on s-some music?” She asked, hesitantly. She wanted to take a chance and look up at Blaise, was about ready to as well, when thunder boomed overhead, causing the tiny brunette to curl up completely, wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face in Blaise’s chest. She just wanted the storm to be over; or at least drowned out enough that she could breathe.
Tag || Blaise!<3 Words | 564 Clothes || Hot Mess Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil Notes || <3
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Post by blaise mackinley stanton on Dec 26, 2013 18:40:30 GMT -5
![](http://i57.tinypic.com/200sgzs.jpg) ![](http://i63.photobucket.com/albums/h144/Terrorprincess/Admin/Lyrics/tongue-tied---faber-drive_zps65fb8c77.png) Blaise knew he had to force himself to move on with his life, which is why he had found himself in the middle of the city that never sleeps. He had been stuck in the same nervous loop for several years and while his mom was moving on with the next chapter in her life, he was still clinging to the past and some false hope that things would be different. The only way anything like that would ever happen was if Blaise made it happen, which he was trying to do. He still held on to bits of the past, clung to them like he needed them to survive and maybe he did, because he sure as hell had no intention of letting those memories go. The little steps were giant leaps for him and he used them to move through each day that followed, hoping it would one day become easier, rather than a list of goals that ought not to be.
He tried not to, but he couldn’t help it; he tensed up when Rhiannon curled closer to him. Blaise wasn’t used to anything like this, even when someone wasn’t freaking out, and he needed to calm himself down every couple of seconds so that he didn’t turn into a breathless mess. “Don’t apologise. I’ve been a hell of a lot worse.” He admitted quietly with a loud, nervous laugh. The bookworm rarely spoke about his own moments of panic or anxiety unless he was in a room with a doctor or therapist, but he wanted Rhi to feel better and felt clueless about how to do that. Sharing wasn’t his plan, but he thought that maybe a comment or two might help her feel less embarrassed about it. He knew from his own experience that it only made the anxiety worse. He froze again, hearing her request. His dark eyes flicked to the iPod docking station on the other side of the room, but with Rhiannon wrapped around him he could hardly cross the room to reach it. He was also pretty certain that the playlist on consisted of old songs from his dad’s collection. He had been feeling a little sentimental the night before and had left it playing quietly in the background while he made his way through the latest book that had captured his attention. He didn’t sing in front of people he knew, though. His performances at the low-key open mic nights were for strangers only, since his nerves had a horrible way of creeping back up whenever he felt pressured to impress someone. At least around strangers if they hated him he didn’t have to face any of them again.
Blaise knew he couldn’t leave Rhiannon freaking out though, his hands already rubbing her back, trying to soothe her. He closed his eyes, trying to forget where they were, the situation and everything else. If he could manage that then he just might be able to control his own nerves enough to help Rhi; he wanted to help her. “This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us, it's time to make our move, I'm shaking off the rust, I've got my heart set on anywhere but here, I'm staring down myself, counting up the years…” It would be easier if he had his guitar to help keep his attention off the girl in his arms, but he didn’t want to let her go and fuss around over that. Plus, if he was going to move for his guitar then he could easily put a playlist on his iPod and leave that running instead.• • •
TAGGED! Rhi! WORDS! 628! OUTFIT! Casual Mess LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects NOTES! <3
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Post by Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb on Dec 26, 2013 19:24:37 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/lily141_zpsb2d0dce1.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/5a1d52-TheBalconyScene_zps7f739be9.png) If there was anything at all she could fix about herself, it would be this ridiculous fear. She knew it was stupid, so why couldn’t she get over it. If she was working so hard on her latest project and a storm hit, she didn’t hear it. Most of the time she wasn’t even aware a storm was raging whenever she took a trip to Rhiannon Land until her brother came home drenched and explained why! She could go through an entire storm, and had a few times, without realising it was brewing and yet the moment she was aware of it thrashing outside her studio windows, she became a mess. She had tried talking to professionals about it but they were ultimately useless so she’d given up trying them and went to different things. In the end, loud music or something taking her full attention away worked the best.
It was the whole reason she’d asked Blaise to turn on some music or sing something. She didn’t know if he could even carry a tune but at the moment, she also didn’t care if he could or not; she just needed something, anything to drown out the noise. At home it was music until a movie was turned on and then it was the film and the silly conversation and yelling at the characters on screen. There was absolutely no reason to be so scared and yet there she was curled up in Blaise’s lap. And all she could think was that she felt bad for the guy to have to deal with her foolishness. “Y-you have?” she asked, confusion colouring her voice. She hadn’t considered that Blaise might have some issues. She thought, like herself, he was just another quirky soul in the big city. Hearing about it though, even if it was a casual slip to make her calm down, was helpful. She didn’t think any less of him like she knew some would. If it were possible, she liked him more for it.
At first, Rhiannon wasn’t sure if Blaise would push her off his lap to put music on or what she would do. But when he took a breath and started singing, Rhi couldn’t help but smile against his chest. She recognised the song instantly as one on her iPod. Feeling the vibrations of Blaise’s singing, the comic book illustrator could feel herself calming down; which was the whole point. The soft singing was enough to have her settling and once he was finished the small part of the song, Rhiannon lifted her head from his shoulder. “That was really nice, Blaise,” she said, smiling softly. ”Will you finish the song?” she asked, blinking away the tears she hadn’t let fall.
Tag || Blaise!<3 Words | 457 Clothes || Hot Mess Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil Notes || <3
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Post by blaise mackinley stanton on Dec 26, 2013 21:03:07 GMT -5
![](http://i57.tinypic.com/200sgzs.jpg) ![](http://i63.photobucket.com/albums/h144/Terrorprincess/Admin/Lyrics/tongue-tied---faber-drive_zps65fb8c77.png) Blaise didn’t think any less of Rhiannon for her fear, or the reaction she was having to the insane storm thundering away outside of his tiny apartment. He understood it better than most, even if the storm didn’t bother him so much. He still had other things in his life that left him wanting to curl up and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. Sometimes it frustrated him and he longed to be able to do something about it, be stronger, more confident, but he had tried and tried and he couldn’t ignore or run from his problems. They were rooted, diagnosed and he just took comfort in how far he had come since the years of mutism and solitude. He definitely wasn’t that kid anymore, even if some of the anxiety still remained with him.
He had coping mechanisms now and knew how best to try and control his own fears when they threatened to choke him. Most of them seemed foolish, cut from the same cloth as childhood fears of the bogeyman, but Blaise had been told time and time again that whether rational or irrational, fears were not stupid. He believed it wholeheartedly, too after all this time, which is why he wanted to help Rhiannon in any way that he could. He might have been startled by her reaction to the sudden change in the weather, but he wasn’t cruel enough to tease or mock her for it; there wasn’t a cruel bone anywhere in his six foot two frame. Nodding, and managing a slight smile, Blaise swallowed his nerves again. “Y-yeah. Too often.” He admitted almost silently as he felt the heat rise to his cheeks. He was too used to people looking at him with sympathetic or bemused expressions when they heard about his problems. It made him feel embarrassed, often flustered and he was prone to dropping things and stammering more when it happened. He hated the attention and the people who asked every single question they could possibly think of. Some people just didn’t seem to grasp the concept that Blaise didn’t like speaking about what he saw as inadequacies.
Blaise had always been able to get lost in the music. Sometimes singing under his breath helped him through a class presentation, keeping his voice only slightly wavering, but his panic attack at bay. It had been a love and a crutch for a very long time, the battered guitar once his father’s still his most cherished possession. He felt like he could move mountains when he had that old instrument in his hands and it helped him feel strong; just like his dad had been. He had been able to forget that Rhi was there until she spoke and then he felt the nerves returning again. “Su-sure, but I need you t-to stay q-quiet.” He couldn’t lose himself again if he knew she was there. If it helped her, then he wanted to continue, but he needed the silence back. Another long moment went by and he started the song from the beginning again, this time carrying on when he had stopped and putting a lot more power behind his voice. He was imagining the dark clubs where the bright lights usually prevented him from seeing the crowd. He was in his element then, and far from the shy man he always seemed to be.• • •
TAGGED! Rhi! WORDS! 628! OUTFIT! Casual Mess LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects NOTES! <3
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Post by Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb on Dec 26, 2013 21:29:26 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/lily141_zpsb2d0dce1.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/5a1d52-TheBalconyScene_zps7f739be9.png) Rhiannon had never felt like her complete and utter fear of thunderstorms was a weakness or a hindrance. Though she probably should have but instead she thought of it more as a minor annoyance when she thought about it at all. And even those times were when she was caught out running errands and had to basically shove her body into some sort of adrenaline overdrive just to get herself to a safe place. Public domain was not safe, but her apartment, her uncle’s or her parents, even searching out Reese at school or work was better than being anywhere. Her brother had always known how to keep her in check, keep her mind off the storm brewing just outside the walls protecting them. Her parents couldn’t do that and her uncle had only tried a couple times before he had looked at Reese like he didn’t know how to help.
There was so much more about her than some silly fear. She was more than her fears and weaknesses. She was a music lover, an excellent artist and enjoyed comic books and superheroes more than was probably acceptable. She loved tattoos, drawing for fun and for a paycheck and being dragged from the safe haven of her studio by friends for parties and clubs. And in all honesty, she didn’t even notice the rain very much anymore; she was usually so involved in her work that a storm could rage right outside the windows she put her drawing desk against and she wouldn’t even notice it until someone pulled her from the pens and paper she worked with. She didn’t even notice when she lost hours and a couple times, days working on her next work.
Rhiannon didn’t know what people would do or say, how they would look at her if she ever told them about her fear. Because she never let anyone but her family know just how bad it was. She grinned and bared it all for her friends, brushing it aside when a flash of lightning lit up the sky or when thunder rolled overhead; all the while she was shaking uncontrollably. “I’m sorry,” she said because she didn’t know what to say to that. “It sucks, doesn’t it?" she asked, sniffling. Taking a deep breath, though she was still shaking like a leaf, she ran her manicured fingers under her eyes to try and get rid of the stains from the tears. She didn’t tell people because she didn’t want to explain the unexplainable. So even though her curiosity was getting the better of her, she was keeping her mouth shut because she didn’t know exactly how to voice to questions without sounding like she was pitying him for his fears or being overly sympathetic.
The newly brunette again secret socialite fell into her work a lot more when she got scared. It was why she became so involved in her work, it was another way to hide and deal with everything. Her parents didn’t have a clue about what their daughter did. They thought she was a college student like her brother, they thought she lived in the student dorm. They didn’t have the slightest clue she shared an apartment with Reese, that she was working full time and in the middle of dealing with a new and improved contract from her current studio’s biggest rival. Rhiannon kept her mouth shut and dipped her head against Blaise chest to show she wasn’t about to speak up again. She liked Blaise’s voice, it kept her calm, as did the rumbling through chest from the song. She didn’t know how she found the sweetest guy in all of New York but she was glad that she’d met him. There weren’t many in the city that would do this. Smiling softly, Rhiannon closed her eyes to just listen to Blaise sing.
Tag || Blaise!<3 Words | 645 Clothes || Hot Mess Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil Notes || <3
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Post by blaise mackinley stanton on Dec 26, 2013 22:18:02 GMT -5
![](http://i57.tinypic.com/200sgzs.jpg) ![](http://i63.photobucket.com/albums/h144/Terrorprincess/Admin/Lyrics/tongue-tied---faber-drive_zps65fb8c77.png) Blaise tried to live beyond the anxiety that had plagued him since childhood. He had his guitar to make him shut off from the rest of the world and an entire universe of adventures could be found in the pages of the books he regularly purchased and stacked precariously on his shelves. It was enough when he was alone, but he still hated the pitying looks and the concerned questions of his peers. He understood that they were trying to be polite and help, but if he had an anxiety attack in the middle of a group presentation, then he would rather go away, do something to take his mind off it and then forget about the whole event. People checking up on him the following day or week only reminded him of it and then that made him feel ten times worse about something he couldn’t go back in time to change. It was something his mom always did and it never really helped matters, even when he tried explaining it to her. Then she just changed tactics to try and say the same thing.
It was difficult, really, for anyone involved. Blaise knew that he had probably caused his mom and aunt more worry than their hearts could handle, but he was considerably better than he had been during the turbulent teenage years. He found taking things one day at a time rather than trying to plan ahead too far and worry about everything at once usually helped him. Apparently his mind was too active, and one of the costs of that was the level of anxiety he had to battle against and the fears he had. Some were irrational, others based on one time experiences that he couldn’t let go of and others were the deep-set ones that everyone struggled with; the loss of a loved one, death…that sort of thing. He didn’t feel the need to list them all and he didn’t need to rely on anyone else to get through them. At least that was the case for the most part. It was only when things were getting seriously out of control that he’d ask for help. It wasn’t because he was stubborn either, but rather because he had coping mechanisms that did usually work and he preferred to keep other people from worrying about him and something they couldn’t control for him.
He kept most of it to himself so people wouldn’t try to do that. To most of the world around him, he was a tall, bookish young man who was a little on the shy side. It was only if he couldn’t get out of a room in time to calm himself down that they saw that there was a lot more to him than that. He shook off her apology, not needing to hear it. Plenty of people had said those words to him before and he could never understand why when it wasn’t their fault. Letting out a sharp, nervous chuckle, Blaise licked his lips to dampen them, realising for a moment that coming close to talking about his issues had left his whole mouth with that dry, cotton wool feeling. “B-Big time. It’s not exactly some-something you get used t-to.” He said, wearing just the hint of a small smile as he looked down at Rhiannon, trying to make sure that she was okay. She looked shaken up, a little nervous, but he didn’t think that this storm would leave her with any nightmares; something he was grateful for.
Blaise could lose himself in the song and in his memories. He forgot about the storm raging outside and the fact that his hair was still damp from the rain. The silence in the room even made him forget about the brunette curled up against his chest, which was a good thing if she wanted him to continue. Even back home, when he was just singing in his room, Blaise would stop the very second he heard the turn of the key in the front door. He could perform when he could forget about an audience, however small or big they may be. He brought the song to its close and then automatically fell into another one without thinking twice about it. It was only at the end of that one that he needed to stretch out his leg and then he felt the presence next to him and remembered everything. His face began to burn with a bright blush and he dipped his head to face away from Rhiannon. “The-The tea w-will be c-cold.” He stammered quietly, remembering the cups in the kitchen. • • •
TAGGED! Rhi! WORDS! 628! OUTFIT! Casual Mess LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects NOTES! <3
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Post by Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb on Dec 26, 2013 23:09:23 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/lily141_zpsb2d0dce1.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/5a1d52-TheBalconyScene_zps7f739be9.png) Most of the time, Rhiannon didn’t have to worry about her fear coming out of nowhere and leaving her rocking back and forth. It was pretty rare, despite living on the coast, to have a huge thunderstorm. There were times when she could almost forget about her fear for the sudden change in weather; almost. Her fear kept her indoors a lot as a child, especially when rainstorms did appear. So in a way, she had to thank her fear for her hours behind her sketchbook. If it hadn’t been for those hours and Reese constant encouragement, Rhiannon probably would have followed loosely down the path her parent’s set for her.
If she followed their orders, Rhi would never have found herself, dyed her hair red or met any of the friends really cares about. Allela would be a stranger to her and the Scottish girl was Rhiannon’s only real friend. She had the small group from the fundraisers and her parent’s social circle, but she never told them anything about the real Rhiannon. They wouldn’t understand why she did what she did. With Allela, she felt like she had a sister, someone she could run to when she needed advice about anything. Her brother was good, but he was still a guy and still her brother. If anything, Reese would want to keep her in the apartment and never let her leave; too many chances for little Rhiannon to get hurt. “No, I guess not,” she said on a sigh. She was too used to these thunderstorm scares. They always left her shaken but there was no irreversible damage done.
Rhiannon could feel her eyes getting heavy at the end of the first song and opened them with the intent of sitting up and giving Blaise some space. But before she could think to move, he was starting on a new song and she was comfortable so she just closed her eyes again. She was balancing on the edge of sleep and wakefulness when the song came to a close and Blaise spoke to her. Yawning, Rhiannon cuddled into his side more, forgetting momentarily where she was. "Mm, that's okay," she mumbled, even though she had been looking forward to the cup of tea. She was exhausted, and storms raging always left her that way whenever she was privy to them. She could go through entire storms without knowing they ever took place thanks to how consumed she became with her work, but there were other times, like these when she was aware and freaked out.
Tag || Blaise!<3 Words | 427 Clothes || Hot Mess Music || The Balcony Scene - - -Pierce The Veil Notes || <3
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Post by blaise mackinley stanton on Dec 27, 2013 10:05:33 GMT -5
![](http://i57.tinypic.com/200sgzs.jpg) ![](http://i63.photobucket.com/albums/h144/Terrorprincess/Admin/Lyrics/tongue-tied---faber-drive_zps65fb8c77.png) At least at age twenty Blaise usually had some sort of warning sign before any of his attacks came on. It could be the dizziness, feeling of nausea or several other things depending on the situation and with those little pre-emptive signals meant he could sometimes do something to prevent anything bubbling over and leaving him a shaking, breathless mess with people poking and prodding him with questions and concern that only made him feel more embarrassed about the whole situation. There had been leaps and bounds since his youth, but he didn’t like to think that a good month without any attacks meant that he was cured; Blaise was not an optimist by any account.
Blaise had never been one to have too many friends. At most there were only ever two or three he felt wholly comfortable around and even then he wasn’t one of those people who turned into a totally different person around the people he knew best. He didn’t transform into a chatterbox, or hyperactive goofball, but instead remained the same quiet and bookish boy with a hidden passion for music and guitar playing. His mom and aunt had an odd balance between them when it came to encouraging him out of his shell a bit more and then trying to protect him from the same hostile world that had stolen his dad and chased him into that silent space for a long time. Blaise could understand their reasons, never argued with them once, but he was on his own in the city and didn’t want to have them worrying about him back in Philadelphia over every miniscule possibility. Another low rumble of thunder shook through the sky above them and Blaise cast his dark eyes up towards the ceiling. “It should be over soon.”He whispered barely. According to his memory, most of the time, the worst of a storm passed quickly enough and just left the bad weather as a reminder.
He didn’t exactly know what to do right now. The thought sounded crazy to him, but it was the honest truth. The tall man who found his escape in books had never been gifted at socialising and having Rhiannon curled into his side was a relatively unusual experience for him. He had thought she might have moved at the mention of the cooling cups of tea, but she never and he found himself sitting awkwardly with his arms held in the air, not really knowing where to put them or what to do. “Um…o-okay…I guess.” He didn’t know what else to stay and he was still sitting in that rather uncomfortable and tense position. Blaise was hopeless at some things, this being one of them, and the heat still burnt on his cheeks as his eyes scanned the room as his mind raced to try and think or something else to say or do. “Food?” He offered as the first thing that scrambled through the panicky fog of thoughts. “A-are you hungry?” • • •
TAGGED! Rhi! WORDS! 628! OUTFIT! Casual Mess LYRICS! Mona Lisa - - - All American Rejects NOTES! <3
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